When Rantzilla Attacks!
by Pengin-Alchemist
Summary: Exactly what the title says! An ever so slightly warped retelling of one of the more eventful days at summer marchin camp...rants, long sentences, and nicknames Oh My!


Inspiration struck blindly and here I am actually writing a story. Well, a slightly journalistic view of one of the more eventful days at summer marching practice, so it's a sort of non-fiction fan-fiction I suppose- I know I'm a geek :)

and OF COURSE here is the nerdy acrostic intro! TADA

P-ercussionist that is there

I-n front of

T-he marching band

O-ceans of invaluable views from where I stand

R-ants, long sentences, and nicknames Oh My!

A-nother one of Pengin-Alchemist's tries to

M-ake a fanfic worthy of reviews or

A-t least something worthy of 3 and a half minutes muse.

AKA Rantzilla attacks the band hall with repeated nonsense and insanity! Click away for your lives!

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I don't mind the fact that I don't march, am not really a member of the drumline, and get to stand on my own little podium and achieve a better view of that seemingly expansive audience than anyone else (except my fellow pit players) were I to be really stupid and look up. Which I did do, by the way last year twice sumod and almost lost my place twice but that's not the point. The point is I'm trying to make the world's longest English sentence and I'm failing in that goal by some 13,903 words. Confused? Good, I am doing my job well then. Explanation-(It's a habit of mine to make sentences drag on forever. Sorry about that when it happens)

This is the point---- …Wait…never mind where'd it go? (Looks for point under computer, scours under the couch cushions and looks at cat suspiciously to no avail) Well…Hey wait don't leave! The point surely is SOMEWHERE(gives sleeping cat another suspicious look) but until it turns up I'll just start typing random happenings at summer marching practice with names slightly messed with and/or nicknames I so diabolically cook up, okay? Okay!

When Rantzilla Attacks Part 1

BANDIES GO MARCHIN ON AND OFF

It's a normal day. Sweltering hot, all traces of wind vanished, and the little puffy and white clouds on the horizon look as if they're making fun of the teenagers standing at attention with their obvious lack of interest in covering the sun and making some short of shade. _Must stay focused. Must stay focused._ Cue old man on bicycle with a radio equipped to the front of it blaring oldie Latin hits at the top of it's range to slowly go by. Everyone starts twitching and giggling, including the drum majors and band teachers for a few split seconds. Then reality sets in quickly as people start getting more relaxed. "YOU'RE STILL AT ATTENTION!" yelled one of the drum majors. Most visibly go back to standing at attention. Naturally, some don't. Some 3 minutes later we're still standing at attention. "George! Go run a lap! You're not standing at attention!" screamed the same drum major. Time ticks by as sweat makes it way slowly down my legs causing my knees to momentarily fuse together. "Preppy, run a lap! Stop talking! We're standing at attention people and the sooner everyone gets still the sooner we'll get you at ease!" At this there is a few chuckles from some of my fellow band members. Names flew by and one by one and two by two the 'perpetrators' jogged slowly around the parking lot we were practicing in grinning sadistically at the majority of the band still standing at attention. Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock(SMASH!)…tick tock TICK(CURSE YOU PROVERBIAL CLOCK SOUND)TAW Anyways, after what seemed like FOREVER the blessed sound of "AT EASE!" was heard.

"When you're at attention don't move! If everyone would've just stayed still you wouldn't have had to stay at attention for 10 minutes!" rang out the voice of one of the assistant band directors, Ms. I. "The drum majors are going to call you to attention again and if everyone is STILL you'll immediately get a break!" yelled Mr. F, the head band director. "BAND! TEN HUT TEN HUT!" "PRIDE!" shouted almost everyone in the band. The head band director deliberated this for a nanosecond before calling out, "At Ease! That wasn't even close! Try it again!"

Once again one of the drum majors voices yelled "BAND! TEN HUT TEN HUT!" "PRIDE!" everyone shouted. "Much better! At 10:30 I expect all of you to be in the band hall in your chairs ready to play! At ease! Everyone either sprinted to their cars to play the much loved game "Who Wants To Win the Coveted Title of First Car out of the Parking Lot?" or walked as nonchalantly as one can when trying to stay out of the way of many cars backing up simultaneously to the splendiferous air conditioned band hall. After narrowly getting out of the way for the 4th day in a row (Early band practice spans Monday through Friday) of that red truck reversing rather quickly I caught up with one of my best friends, Stacy. We headed to the water bottle machine and then promptly got back to the band hall and proceeded to each feign taking a nap but when the other wasn't looking throw the cloth Stacy found on Mr. B's stand at each other.

…an hour later…

In the percussion room everything was pretty typical. We played warm-ups, during which The Joker(self-explanatory goofball of the drumline) messed up on purpose just to grate on Mr. A's nerves(causing warm-ups to last a lot longer than usual) and then we started working on our new songs. Mr. A, who's the other assistant band director and drum teacher set a piece of music on my stand. "Can you learn this so we practice it in about a few minutes?" he asked. "Uh…sure!" Not trying to brag or anything but I play piano and sightreading music usually doesn't take me very long if the music is in a reasonable key. (example of unreasonable: F minor like the key change that happens AFTERWARDS thankfully) So in a few minutes I knew it and we played through it a few times. "Oh and by the way", he said offhandedly, "After we play through this you need to move the instruments to the main band room. We're recording this today." "WHAT!", all drummers said in unison. "Don't worry you'll do fine, besides the only reason is because the twirlers need a recording of this to practice to(points to the newest sheet of music)so just do the best you can."

Enter Band Hall

We play through the song with the new part in it and I did great! I didn't mess up or anything! In fact, that fact even then did seem kinda eerily wrong. "Okay now we're going to play through it and record it!" said one of the drum majors cheerily. DUN! DUUUUN! DUUUUNNNNNN! _What! Oh dang… Well surely if I played it that well the first time the second time—_Then, exactly on it's cue(of course) reality set in. I was feeling pretty confidant (which is never a good thing by the way when playing a piece of music owned for only 15 minutes) and I had actually counted right to my new part somehow. DaDaDADADADaDA---silence except for Mr. A playing the other part of it. _Uh Oh, Where am I?_ _Aww…dang _Cue many swiveled heads my way with sarcastic expressions on them. I see 'the look' and respond by checking out the awesome wooden keys on the marimba…They're really wooden by the way, and the wood forms patterns, and swirls and lines and—"Okay, well I hope the next time we record we do a little better job at playing the song than that" Mr. F said glancing meaningfully at certain sections(obviously including mine included) around the room, sarcasm evident. Everyone nodded in unison, while some "What the heck was that?" and "…yeah…definitely" utterances could be heard.

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And there ya have it, the most interesting day of the summer band marching practice/playing. Well, one of them.

On one other day however very odd references were brought in by a university band director who came to help(he was the drum major for our band in his golden years) that week involving the strange but true metaphoric connection between a grape and marching correctly. Oh, and some of the guys started having a saber fight with a fishing pole and other big pieces of wood they seemed to drag out of nowhere during the water break…and I got 10th place in the march off even though were I to somehow end up marching (which would in itself would defy fate entirely) drummers marchin and band marchin are not exactly related. If they are they're like second cousins or something.

And if you're still with me here I am very happy, stunned but happy!

Even though that also means you're probably either L.J. Conks or dark's silver shadow but THAT'S OKAY! XD

By the way you two rock because if it weren't for you, this story probably would have stayed in a deep dusty recess of my mind, never to have been unleashed…Not sure whether it was a good idea to let it out or not but at least my profile isn't as desolate as it once was! So...I might even actually explain the metaphoric connection between a grape and correct marching form in a later story so not to just leave that hint as a sad excuse for a cliffhanger to get people to review! Or not…most people who actually read this far down would already know the answer I bet…oh well….Well anyways please tell me how I did! Whether my spacing is way off, or those freakishly long trains of thought get to ya a bit(although I am really used to doing that I hate to say)or my story POV started sounding like one of Charlie Brown's teachers or whatever please review and let me know how I can make my fanfictions better pretty please :D


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